


Just Business

by orphan_account



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Male Solo, Masturbation, Pining, Russian Mafia, Sexual Fantasy, Slow Build, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-20 19:55:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3662931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the metropolis of Ylisstol, Lon'qu is the bodyguard of mafia boss Gregor, who is the head of a successful smuggling operation. However, when a new rival organization arrives in town, they find themselves questioning their motivations - and their feelings for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

As Lon’qu pulled Gregor’s glossy Lincoln Town Car up to Club Plegia, he could feel the vibrations of the bass thrumming through the gas pedal.

“Why are we meeting at a strip club, of all places?” he said gruffly.

“Gangrel is one who is liking to show off, Gregor thinks,” Gregor said. “Plus, is good it is public place. Shows us good intentions.”

“I don’t like it,” Lon’qu said, cutting the engine. He got out of the car and opened the door for Gregor.

“But you are not liking anything, yes?” Gregor said.

“You know what I mean,” Lon’qu said.

“Is just business, my friend,” Gregor said, clapping him on the shoulder as he climbed out of the car.

Lon’qu scowled more deeply than usual. He handed the keys over to a pimply valet. “Don’t scratch it,” he said.

“Yes sir,” said the valet. “I mean no sir, I won’t.”

He took the ticket from the valet and put it in the inside pocket of his suit jacket. “Let’s make this quick,” he said.

In front of the club, there was pink neon light in the shape of a woman. The light flickered on and off, creating the illusion of movement, the swaying of hips, the swipe of a leg. Lon’qu sighed. “I hate shit like this,” he said.

“Ah, but you are young! You should enjoy it while it lasts, yes?”

“I’m not that young,” Lon’qu retorted.

Gregor laughed. “Wait till you are being old man like Gregor, my friend, and then you will see who you are calling young.”

“Hmm,” Lon’qu said, adjusting one of his cufflinks as they strolled up to the front doors. “I think we’re overdressed.”

“Is for making good first impression, yes?” said Gregor.

“Hold up,” said the bouncer. “Do you have a reservation?”

“We’re on the list,” said Lon’qu. “Under ‘Mr. Smith and guest.’”

The bouncer glanced at his clipboard, then glanced back up at the two of them.

“Right this way, Mr. Smith,” he said. The bouncer reached for a walkie-talkie on his belt. “Mr. Gangrel, sir? Mr. Smith is here.”

“Good,” crackled a voice on the receiver. Even with the blasting of the bass and the chattering of the patrons, something about the voice made Lon’qu’s skin crawl. “I’ll send someone right away.”

Before long, a woman with long white hair and a bold amount of deep purple eye shadow came to the door to greet them. She was wearing a rather low cut dress. Lon’qu gritted his teeth and averted his gaze.

“Ah, Mr. Smith,” she said, holding out her hand. “So good to meet you.” Gregor’s hand practically swallowed hers, pulling her into a vigorous handshake.

“Pleasure is all mine,” he said.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. Mr. Gangrel is in the lounge. I’ll take you to him.”

The woman led them through the club. It was full of loud, incomprehensible music and nearly naked gyrating bodies. It made Lon’qu’s head pound.

He glanced back at Gregor. He couldn’t hear it over the boom of the music, but he could see that he was chuckling. Lon’qu steadied his breath, grounded by the presence of his old friend. Suddenly, he noticed that his fists were clenched tightly at his sides. He relaxed his muscles and took another deep breath.

The woman with the purple eye shadow led them into the private longue at the back of the club, which to Lon’qu’s relief was considerably quieter and better lit. To Lon’qu’s surprise, it was very tastefully furnished, with sleek modern furniture and a bar at the side of the room.

A man with a horridly trendy red beard and a jacket with unusually large lapels was sitting on a stiff looking couch with a glass of wine in his hand and a scantily clad woman on either side of him.

“Ah! So glad you could make it, gentleman,” he said in that slimy voice of his. It set Lon’qu’s teeth on edge. “If you’ll excuse us, ladies, we have business to attend to.”

The women on either side of him let out simpering giggles and left the room.

“Will you have a seat, gentleman? May I offer you a drink?”

They took their seats on a stiff modern furniture piece across from Gangrel. “Gregor will have vodka, and this one will have Maker’s Mark, with the rocks.”

“Aversa, will you get these gentlemen their drinks?”

“Of course,” said the woman with the eye shadow, though she sounded less than enthusiastic.

Gangrel turned back to his visitors. “My employer more than appreciates you coming out so late, and accepting his gesture of friendship. He is blessed to be welcomed into this city with such grace by his peers.”

Aversa brought their drinks over from bar.

“Many thanks,” Gregor said, taking his glass. Lon’qu merely grunted in acknowledgement as she handed over his whiskey. She rolled her eyes and took a seat next to Gangrel.

“Is good vodka,” Gregor said with some surprise. “Gregor did not think they were knowing good vodka from kick in ass here in west.”

“My employer is a cosmopolitan man,” said Gangrel, “as I am sure you are yourself.”

“Oh yes,” Gregor said. “Is why Gregor only employ foreign bodyguards.” He clapped Lon’qu on the shoulder. “If he has no one he knows and he is being wanted in his home country, he will not betray you. Gregor got idea from crime novel.” Gangrel laughed, plainly amused. Lon’qu sipped his whiskey in silence.

“Now,” said Gangrel, setting his wine glass down on the end table next to the couch. “I understand that you are in the business of smuggling, am I correct?”

Gregor nodded, taking another sip of his vodka. “Guns, drugs, stolen goods. You name it, Gregor can move it. Is best in business.”

Gangrel nodded. “Your reputation proceeds you, and might I say, it is quite the reputation indeed. Now, my employer is considering expanding certain business ventures of his to Ylisse, and a man with your talents could be quite a valuable ally.”

“Ah,” Gregor said, slamming his glass down. “Now we are talking business, yes?”

Gangrel smiled, but Lon’qu thought it looked more like a grimace. “I’m glad we understand each other.”

They began to hash out the specifics, talking price rates and logistics and agreements. Lon’qu didn’t listen to any of it. He swirled the ice cubes around in his empty glass. He wanted to ask for another whiskey, but he had to drive them home tonight. Meanwhile, Aversa was shooting him a dirty look. He tried not to meet her gaze.

When the meeting finally drew to a close, Lon’qu couldn’t help but feel relieved. Gregor and Gangrel exchanged their parting pleasantries and Aversa led them back out to lot.

When the valet brought the Lincoln back around, Gregor was already pulling out a cigar.

“I wish you wouldn’t smoke in the car,” Lon’qu said, opening the door for Gregor. 

“Let an old man have his pleasures,” Gregor said, climbing into the back seat.

Lon’qu sighed, climbing into the driver’s seat.

“So,” Gregor said, cigar between his teeth, as Lon’qu pulled out of the lot. “What is it you are thinking of our new friend Mr. Gangrel?”

“I don’t like him,” Lon’qu said flatly.

Gregor chuckled. Lon’qu allowed himself a glance at the rearview mirror to catch a glimpse his smile. “You don’t like anyone,” Gregor said, smoke billowing from his nostrils. “Except for Gregor, that is.”

“I won’t like you anymore if you die of lung cancer,” Lon’qu retorted.

“No, my friend, if 6 bullets cannot kill Gregor, what is bit of smoke going to do, eh?”

“You’ve only been shot 5 times,” Lon’qu said.

“Details,” Gregor said, waving his hand through the smoke. “Now, tell me, what is it about Mr. Gangrel that is not to your liking?”

“He’s a slime ball,” Lon’qu said.

Gregor laughed again. “Is just business!” he said. “If Gregor did not do business with slime balls, he would not be able to do business at all.”

Lon’qu could feel himself smile.

“I am thinking it would be very bad idea to get on bad side of new business partner,” Gregor said. “Be nicer next time.”

“All right,” Lon’qu said. “You’re the boss.”

“Yes,” Gregor replied, putting the cigar back in his mouth. “Gregor is boss.”


	2. Chapter 2

It was nearly midnight by the time they got back to the penthouse. Gregor sat down onto the couch with a deep sigh. “Get Gregor a drink,” he said.

“You just had one at the club,” Lon’qu said, but he was already heading toward the wet bar.

“Gregor is big man, yes? He has big needs.” Gregor slipped out of his shoes and loosened his tie. “Plus, has been long day.”

“What’ll it be? Gin and tonic?”

“Ah, that is on top of the money!” Gregor said, slipping out of his suit jacket. “You know Gregor well. Get something for yourself, too, we drink together.”

Lon’qu brought the drinks over to the couch.

“Many thanks,” Gregor said, taking his glass. Lon’qu moved to pick up Gregor’s discarded suit jacket from the couch. Gregor waved him away. “Leave it be for now,” he said. “Can hang it up later. Why don’t you be taking load off, my friend?”

“Thanks,” Lon’qu said, taking a seat in an armchair across from Gregor. He had a sweeping view of the city below him, still bustling despite the lateness of the hour.

They drank in comfortable silence for a while. Lon’qu stared out the window at the electric glow of the Ylisstol night. He could hear the gentle tick of the clock in the kitchen.

“Say,” Gregor said suddenly, “how long has it been that you are working for Gregor?”

“Going on 5 years now,” Lon’qu said.

Gregor let out a low whistle. “That is something,” he said.

“Yeah. Why do you ask?”

“This business with new partners, new friends. It is reminding Gregor of day we met.”

Lon’qu stiffened. He didn’t much like to remember that time.

And yet, he could still recall that meeting 5 long years ago with crisp and perfect clarity. He could almost feel the blood that had been trickling down his forehead and hear the buzz of the bare bulb that had been hanging above his head.

Lon’qu blinked away the memory. “What about it?” he said. “The day we met, I mean.”

Gregor absently swirled around the contents of his glass.

“We did not meet under what might be called best of circumstances, yes?” he said.

“You can say that again,” Lon’qu muttered, taking a hearty swig of his drink.

“And yet, in these 5 years, Gregor has become your good friend, yes?”

Lon’qu nodded.

“So, my friend, you are knowing better than most that first impressions are not always correct being.”

“Are you telling me to give Gangrel a chance?”

“Ah!” Gregor said. “Nothing is getting past you, eh?”

Lon’qu sighed. “I suppose I can do that.” He took another sip of his drink and they sat in silence for a little while longer. Somehow, however, the air did not seem as relaxed as it had been before Gregor spoke. There was an edge to this silence, and a building tension that threatened to break at any minute.

Lon’qu couldn’t stand it. “Hey Gregor,” he said.

“Hmm?”

Lon’qu hesitated. He hadn’t thought of anything to say. He had merely wanted to break the uncomfortable silence. He swallowed heavily.

“Hey, Gregor…” he said again. He stared at his reflection in the dark glass of the window. “There’s something that’s been on my mind.”

“What is it, my friend?”

“It’s just that…” Lon’qu looked over at Gregor. His posture was relaxed and open, but his eyes were bright and alert. “I’ve been wondering,” Lon’qu said, “what it was that made you think that you could trust me, all those years ago.”

“Hmm,” Gregor said, a soft smile creeping up on his lips. “Gregor not so sure himself.” He swirled his drink around in his hand again. “Gregor thinks that maybe it was that Lon’qu was reminding him of himself, when he was fresh young sprout.”

“Oh,” Lon’qu said.

“Ah, Gregor is seeing in your eyes that you do not think so. You think you are nothing like Gregor, is that right?”

“Well,” Lon’qu said, “I’ve never been the friendliest person.”

Gregor laughed. “Is true! But is not why Gregor say we are alike. When Gregor was looking at young Lon’qu, Gregor was seeing his passion. Gregor was seeing incredible drive, he was seeing boundless pure energy.”

Gregor was smiling with a distant look in his eyes, as though he was remembering something long ago and far away. “Gregor and Lon’qu both come to this country in search of something. Both have suffered in this country, both have worked hard, both have faced failure. But it is not stopping us, oh no, it is making us strong. Is why Gregor is trusting you.”

“Oh,” was all Lon’qu could say. He stared down at his glass. “Thank you.”

“You are most welcome, my friend,” said Gregor, draining his glass. “Now, if Gregor may be excused, he is thinking he will turn in for night.”

With a gasping yawn, Gregor got up off the couch and sauntered down the hall to the master bedroom. Lon’qu waited till he heard the door close behind him.

“Good night,” Lon’qu said softly. He gulped down the last of his gin and tonic and closed his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

As Gregor’s personal bodyguard, Lon’qu stayed within a hundred meters of Gregor at all times – at least, while he was on duty. Which was, admittedly, literally most of the time. Save for his weekly day off, he was constantly on the job. There weren’t many people Gregor trusted to do his work. Since he was on call 24/7, he slept in the second bedroom of Gregor’s penthouse.

He made good money, too. But Lon’qu never cared about money as much as Gregor seemed to.

Lon’qu hung up Gregor’s discarded suit jacket in the hall closet, smoothing out the wrinkles with his hands. He’d have to send it out for dry cleaning in the morning.

With a sigh, Lon’qu made his way down the hall to his own bedroom, which was across the hall from Gregor’s.

Without bothering to turn on the light, he began to undress himself, careful to hang his suit in the closet so that it would not get wrinkled. It was too late to take a shower. He didn’t want to wake Gregor, after all. He could already hear him snoring from across the hall. Lon’qu allowed himself a smile.

Naked, Lon’qu walked into the bathroom of his suite. He turned the faucet on low, splashing cold water onto his face. He stared at himself in the mirror while the water ran unchecked. Despite the darkness, his eyes were sharp enough to make out the details of his features. His face looked drawn out and tired. There were bags under his eyes and stubble on his chin.

And yet, Lon’qu did not feel tired. He felt charged and strung out, and ready to fight. He nearly found himself hoping that someone would try to break in so he could expend his energy and then get some much-needed sleep. Lon’qu shook his head, banishing the thought. That wouldn’t do.

He’d have to think of something else.

Absently, Lon’qu reached down and wrapped his hand around his cock. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Slowly, he began to stroke himself in the darkness of the bathroom. The water in the sink was still running.

He ran his thumb over the slit, and felt a bead of wet precum beginning to leak out of his cock. He spread the wetness up and down the shaft, which was growing harder by the minute. Lon’qu’s head lolled back as he increased the pace of the strokes. He bit his lip to stifle a gasp.

Lon’qu opened his eyes, still fully adjusted to the darkness. He took his hand off his erection and turned the water off.

Purposefully, he made his way back into the bedroom of his suite, and careful not to pull it too roughly, opened the drawer of his bedside table. Inside was a a bottle of personal lubricant, a big black vibrator, and .22 caliber revolver.

Lon’qu grabbed the bottle of lube and popped the cap. He brought it to his nose and inhaled. It was strawberry scented. Lon’qu liked the way it smelled.

He lay down on his back with his legs spread apart and poured a generous amount onto the fingers of his right hand. Gently, he worked a finger into his ass. He let out a long, drawn out sigh, relaxing his whole body as the tight ring of muscle adjusted around his finger.

With his left hand, he grabbed his neglected erection, and went back to stroking himself up and down. Before he could stop it, Lon’qu felt a low purr forming in the back of his throat.

He took another deep breath and plunged the second finger into his ass. He began to stretch himself out, scissoring his fingers apart. He loved the feeling of being open. He wanted to go deeper, reaching for the spot that made a bolt of electricity shoot up his spine. When his fingers finally brushed against his prostate, he let out a low hum.

Meanwhile, he continued stroking himself with his left hand, keeping up a slow but steady rhythm.

He had worked a third finger into his ass and he was starting to breathe heavily. It still didn’t feel like enough. His fingers never felt big enough. Lon’qu closed his eyes and pictured Gregor’s huge ringed hands, how they looked when they held a cigar, how they looked when they swirled an ice cube around in a high ball, or, more rarely, how they looked when they were rubbing Gregor’s sore and weary temples. Lon’qu had spent a lot of time thinking about those hands.

He didn’t remember exactly when he had started thinking about Gregor in this way. As he lay on his mattress fingering himself, he would call to mind any number of images to help himself get off. He couldn’t pinpoint the first time he had touched himself to the thought of Gregor any more than he could remember the first time he had touched himself at all.

Lon’qu had all four fingers inside himself now, and he was gasping, back arched against the bed. He still wanted more. He pulled out with a grunt and reached back to the open drawer, grabbing the vibrator. Keeping his legs spread apart, he smeared some of the fragrant strawberry lube onto the shiny black plastic.

Carefully, he lined himself up with the vibrator and slowly pushed it into his ass. He let out a long, low moan. Steadying his breath, he gave himself some time to adjust to the feeling of the thing inside him, letting the ring of muscle stay loose and relaxed.

Then, ever so slowly, he began to fuck himself with it. Lon’qu had never seen Gregor’s cock before. But Gregor was a big man. It was natural that his cock would be pretty sizable, too. He turned on the switch at the base of the vibrator, and it began to thrum softly inside him. Lon’qu gasped. He could feel it all the way up his spine.

Keeping one hand on the vibrator to steady it, he went back to stroking himself with his other hand. Lon’qu wished he had thought to pull the blankets over himself, but he was too far gone to stop now.

Lon’qu closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of the vibrator inside of him. Instead of the weight of blankets, Lon’qu imagined Gregor’s weight on top of him. He would be heavy, and it would be pleasant. Maybe he would run his hands down Gregor’s scarred, muscular back, and maybe he would dig in his nails and create some scars of his own. Gregor looked like the type that would fuck him hard and yet kiss him gently. Lon’qu licked his lips.

He could feel himself getting close. He increased the speed of his strokes, losing all of the steady rhythm he had built up, frantically approaching orgasm. Just in time, he reached for a tissue from the bedside table, eyes shooting open as he with a shudder and an arched back and a wordless reaching gasp.

He flopped back down onto the mattress, sleepy and satisfied. With a grimace, he turned off the vibrator and pulled it out of his ass. He cleaned up the mess between his legs as best as he could with a handful of tissues. He would have plenty of time to shower in the morning. He had needed to change his sheets soon, anyway.

In the afterglow of his clandestine pleasure, he drifted into a deep, if uneasy, sleep.

That night, he dreamt of falling. Come morning, he would not remember this dream.

**Author's Note:**

> Rating will go up


End file.
